It is the day after Christmas....
Exactly one year ago, today, I had slept at the same spot, under the Natchez dock.
The weather was even colder (32 degrees with the wind chill) than it is today (about 55 degrees with no wind) then.
I had had "the worst Christmas ever," the day before.
Luckily, a year ago, I had made a 50 dollar tip a couple days before that holiday; off of a tourist who wanted to play alongside me as his wife shot a video; and had the freedom to lay bundled in blankets waiting for a warmer day to come along.
Low Expectations
Having experienced last years Christmas, I was able to avoid topping it and setting a new standard for "the worst Christmas ever," as all of the ingredients were there in abundance.
Few businesses were open.
The library and other places to get out of the cold were closed.
Few people were out; almost all of them with bah humbug scowls on their faces.
I "started" my Christmas by waking up under the Natchez dock and noticing that the boat was pretty much idle; the calliope hadn't played; they hadn't warmed up the steam (for 20 minutes); and nobody had taken the microphone to welcome everybody to the Natchez and inform them that it was indeed a steam boat; can run in 5 feet of water; once raced against the Robert E. Lee steamboat from New Orleans to St. Louis in 1870 (and lost); has had Mark Twain aboard, who then wrote about it, like I am doing...etc.
It was just sitting there.
Idleness Depressing
One of the things that has been depressing me lately, is the idleness I feel in myself when I am waiting for the darned boat to launch, so that I can emerge from my covert sleeping spot, then walk along the bottom of the bank of rocks (far left in photo) where I can only be seen by those at the foremost edge of the river walk; picking up a few scraps of driftwood, so that about 100 feet from the dock when I climb up; people will be fooled into thinking that that was all I was doing.
The feeling of stagnation comes from the fact that the boat doesn't launch until 11:45 a.m. and, sometimes by then, I have been under there for 12 hours; only 8 of which I had made "productive" by being asleep.
The Remedy
Part of the remedy has been to acquire a couple of good books, which I can read by using the reflection of the sun off of the water at certain spots, yet remain invisible to the Natchez crew.
Another part might be the acquisition of a cheap AM/FM radio, which would give me music from classical to classic rock, as well as news and opinion from the Outside World -stuff anybody would know about unless they lived "under a rock" or under a dock, I suppose.
Another thing that depresses me is being broke; or being close to it.
A Very Karrie Christmas
But, the good news would be that I had run into Karrie, the evening of December 24th, at The OZ hostel for homeless men, which serves a meal each evening at 6 p.m.
We wound up walking together; towards the French Quarter.
She mentioned the fact that she had lost about 35 pounds by quitting beer drinking.
We were approaching Brothers Market on Gravier and Baronne streets; and I had about 32 dollars on me.
"Can you drink brandy; to warm up?" I asked.
"Oh, I can still drink liquor," she answered.
I bit the bullet and (over)spent about 9 bucks on a pint of brandy; which she wound up refusing to partake of.
"It's just going to make me fat," was her non sequitur response after I offered her some.
It crossed my mind that she may have undergone hypnosis in order to kick alcoholism; and perhaps the suggestion which triggered her aversion to it hinged upon self-esteem issues surrounding her weight.
She stayed by my side as I took her into the French Quarter for her first time.
I showed her a few attractions, such as the Unique store, where the employees gave me covert winks and nods of approval at the sight of Karrie by my side.
We made it as far as Rouses Market, which caused her to express delight over the fact that there was more than one of those stores.
I told her about the chicken bags and the sandwiches etc. which they toss out (the OZ had only served a bologna sandwich and a piece of cake and a cup of water) and that seemed to peak her interest a bit.
It was a very cold night (high 20's) and I was thinking about my "accommodations" under the dock; wondering how she felt about rats, and the like.
I kissed her a few times which seemed ordained by some subconscious reaction to the particular place and time; and she kissed back and sighed with pleasure.
She told me that I looked "so good," (especially in my hat??) at one point.
But, then at about midnight, like Cinderella she shot off in the general direction of where we had come; after a brief goodnight.
It may have been because she was ready to break down and ask for a sip of brandy; or it may be just because she is Karrie; who believes that brandy will make her fat.......
The weather was even colder (32 degrees with the wind chill) than it is today (about 55 degrees with no wind) then.
I had had "the worst Christmas ever," the day before.
Luckily, a year ago, I had made a 50 dollar tip a couple days before that holiday; off of a tourist who wanted to play alongside me as his wife shot a video; and had the freedom to lay bundled in blankets waiting for a warmer day to come along.
Low Expectations
Having experienced last years Christmas, I was able to avoid topping it and setting a new standard for "the worst Christmas ever," as all of the ingredients were there in abundance.
Few businesses were open.
The library and other places to get out of the cold were closed.
Few people were out; almost all of them with bah humbug scowls on their faces.
I "started" my Christmas by waking up under the Natchez dock and noticing that the boat was pretty much idle; the calliope hadn't played; they hadn't warmed up the steam (for 20 minutes); and nobody had taken the microphone to welcome everybody to the Natchez and inform them that it was indeed a steam boat; can run in 5 feet of water; once raced against the Robert E. Lee steamboat from New Orleans to St. Louis in 1870 (and lost); has had Mark Twain aboard, who then wrote about it, like I am doing...etc.
It was just sitting there.
Idleness Depressing
One of the things that has been depressing me lately, is the idleness I feel in myself when I am waiting for the darned boat to launch, so that I can emerge from my covert sleeping spot, then walk along the bottom of the bank of rocks (far left in photo) where I can only be seen by those at the foremost edge of the river walk; picking up a few scraps of driftwood, so that about 100 feet from the dock when I climb up; people will be fooled into thinking that that was all I was doing.
The feeling of stagnation comes from the fact that the boat doesn't launch until 11:45 a.m. and, sometimes by then, I have been under there for 12 hours; only 8 of which I had made "productive" by being asleep.
The Remedy
Part of the remedy has been to acquire a couple of good books, which I can read by using the reflection of the sun off of the water at certain spots, yet remain invisible to the Natchez crew.
Another part might be the acquisition of a cheap AM/FM radio, which would give me music from classical to classic rock, as well as news and opinion from the Outside World -stuff anybody would know about unless they lived "under a rock" or under a dock, I suppose.
Another thing that depresses me is being broke; or being close to it.
A Very Karrie Christmas
But, the good news would be that I had run into Karrie, the evening of December 24th, at The OZ hostel for homeless men, which serves a meal each evening at 6 p.m.
We wound up walking together; towards the French Quarter.
She mentioned the fact that she had lost about 35 pounds by quitting beer drinking.
We were approaching Brothers Market on Gravier and Baronne streets; and I had about 32 dollars on me.
"Can you drink brandy; to warm up?" I asked.
"Oh, I can still drink liquor," she answered.
I bit the bullet and (over)spent about 9 bucks on a pint of brandy; which she wound up refusing to partake of.
"It's just going to make me fat," was her non sequitur response after I offered her some.
It crossed my mind that she may have undergone hypnosis in order to kick alcoholism; and perhaps the suggestion which triggered her aversion to it hinged upon self-esteem issues surrounding her weight.
She stayed by my side as I took her into the French Quarter for her first time.
We made it as far as Rouses Market, which caused her to express delight over the fact that there was more than one of those stores.
I told her about the chicken bags and the sandwiches etc. which they toss out (the OZ had only served a bologna sandwich and a piece of cake and a cup of water) and that seemed to peak her interest a bit.
It was a very cold night (high 20's) and I was thinking about my "accommodations" under the dock; wondering how she felt about rats, and the like.
I kissed her a few times which seemed ordained by some subconscious reaction to the particular place and time; and she kissed back and sighed with pleasure.
She told me that I looked "so good," (especially in my hat??) at one point.
But, then at about midnight, like Cinderella she shot off in the general direction of where we had come; after a brief goodnight.
It may have been because she was ready to break down and ask for a sip of brandy; or it may be just because she is Karrie; who believes that brandy will make her fat.......
At least you're chasing Karrie again instead of latching onto King Skeezer, AKA Leslie. I think, just my opinion, that your life will be a much more comfortable skeeze, with a skeeze-ette who tends camp well as you say Karrie does.
ReplyDeleteKarrie is a sign flyer, and is living nearby a silly-straw-like construction of looping and spiraling on ramps; off ramps; bridges all kinds of turning lanes where cars are forced to stop close enough to see their sad faces and read signs.
ReplyDeleteHence, there are about 16 separate places to stand and there are skee; I mean "flyers" on all 4 or 6 or 8 corners under those ramps.
Hmm..."flying a sign;" kind of puts me in the mind of soaring through the clouds; free of worry from ever having to punch a time clock; yeah,
Flying a flag of freedom!! which reads "anything helps" (...even a snide remark?)
But, that is an area in which there is safety in numbers; and the fact that she wasn't toting but 20 of her 60 pounds of luggage with her the other night makes it seems like there are people there that she can trust..but when she is drinking she will go person to person; and Bourbon Street is a playground for that; but even if she sat and flew her sign on Bourbon, she would be near the top of the food chain; then we find someone who might let us crash at their place for a sliding scale fee of what we both pull in on any given night; someone who has no particular glaring mental health issues LOL
There you go! How can you ascend to being Kind Skeeze without a Queen Skeeze? You two can spend the next 20 years becoming the ultimate skeeze & skeezette, known for your liquor-y smell, scraggliness, and devotion to each other ... people will give you money just because you'll be the oldest couple of bum+bumette, and maybe that makes it lucky or something. This is a good life plan.
ReplyDelete